


you'd never dared to care

by chaosinthesolarsystem



Category: The Penumbra Podcast
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Other, Panic Attacks, death mention, the gay space crime team is there peripherally but they're all having kind of a bad day, this sounds gloomier than intended tbh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-25
Updated: 2019-02-25
Packaged: 2019-11-05 18:00:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17923658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chaosinthesolarsystem/pseuds/chaosinthesolarsystem
Summary: Juno has been getting better at not throwing himself into danger at the slightest opportunity. That doesn't make their job any less risky.





	you'd never dared to care

**Author's Note:**

> fun fact I impulsively wrote like 7k of that mission actually going down but the plot ended up so convoluted that I gave up eventually hfdjskskss

There’s a trickling flow of blood coloring the sink red and Juno hurriedly turns on the tap to wash it away. The cut on his hand is not a deep one but he’d ripped it back open when they got on the ship and now he has to press a bandage against it again to stop the bleeding. It’s not a major injury and he’s relieved, really, because the way their job today went, he could’ve been off much, much worse. 

In the end, they’d gotten what they came for and sustained no lasting damage, but the shock of it still simmers in his bones and nobody could make themselves call it a success. 

It had all started out well enough, and even when they’d gotten separated it was fine. If they weren’t able to deal with drastic changes of plan, they would’ve all been dead a long time ago. It had started going really wrong when Peter and Buddy had gotten first trapped, communication cut off, and then surrounded where the rest of them couldn’t reach them. They hadn’t gotten into details about what exactly happened in there, the debrief postponed until all injuries were attended to, but Juno’s brain keeps going back to the expression on Vespa’s face when a bomb had gone off in the building they’d thought Peter and Buddy in.

Bizarrely, Juno knows his face didn’t mirror Vespa’s naked fear. His mind had refused to put the concepts of “Death” and “Peter Nureyev” into the same sentence and now he hates himself for it a little; it’s not like he usually has trouble imagining the worst happening to the people he loves, but when it came down to it- he just refused to consider it an option. They’d gotten word that the others were alright soon enough, before Juno could start processing any horrible possibilities. Good God, if something had really happened to Nureyev and that blankness had been Juno’s first reaction-

He shakes his head as if it’s going to make the thoughts go away and tries to concentrate on wrapping his cut. 

It’s fine. They got off with a scare and a few scratches. They’re fine. 

He keeps seeing Vespa’s face, though, and he knows that from Buddy and Peter’s vantage point, it had looked like Juno and Vespa were the ones caught in the explosion. It’s a cruel joke, really, that they went through the same completely unnecessary shock at the same time. He’d seen the way they’d clung to each other when they were back on the ship, and Juno’s stomach had clenched with sympathy. He knows he can’t begin to understand the scale of the trauma that is haunting both Buddy and Vespa, running too deep and through too many years of their lives. He sees the way they’re attuned to each other, especially in a fight, how they can’t bear to lose sight of each other for long, how the constant dread of losing each other has still firmly hooked its claws into them.

Buddy had talked about it to him, once. Had talked about how they were working on it, how they were trying to trust each other to look after themselves, about trying not to let the lingering cloud of fear determine their lives.

Well. Juno recons this is going to be somewhat of a setback.

Still, he’s grateful. They all made it out, they’re mostly unharmed. Nureyev had sustained a sprained wrist and a minor head wound, but in light of some of the stuff they’ve been through and the stuff that could’ve happened, that’s nothing. A while ago, Juno might have been running himself into a panic over this, undoubtedly finding some way to blame himself, but he’s proud to say that he’s getting better at... not doing that. 

They’re fine.

“You okay in there?” Buddy’s voice asks from outside the bathroom of their makeshift medbay that’s little more than a single bedroom with medical supplies stuffed into the dresser.

“Yeah, fine, fine,” he calls and opens the door. Buddy’s good eye is tired and red-rimmed.

“Buddy, I’m… I’m sorry that happened,” he says because he has absolutely no idea what else to say. She gives a weak shrug.

“Not like we can change it now,” she sighs and turns away from him, “What’s done is done. you need anything else?” 

He understands it as the dismissal it is and awkwardly pats her shoulder before leaving the room.

He hasn’t seen Peter since they boarded the ship, which normally wouldn’t be a reason for concern. The man likes to shroud himself in an air of mystery, after all, even if it means sneaking around the ship for various stretches of time before unexpectedly reappearing behind you. Juno privately suspects it's his way of dealing with the claustrophobic tendencies and the relative lack of privacy that come with sharing a spaceship with five other people. 

Now, though, after the day they’ve had, he can’t help but slightly worry, even though Peter seemed as put together as always earlier. He’s not the type to dwell on things that might’ve, could’ve, should've happened, either, that’s Juno’s thing. Still.

When he can’t find him, though, and nobody else can tell him where he’s vanished off to either, Juno has to surrender. If Peter doesn’t want to be found, there is no use in dragging him out of hiding. The slight concern has made way for nagging anxiety but there isn’t much to do except retreat to their room and wait for Peter to resurface. 

Juno crawls into bed, lights off, and is about ready to pass out, the exhaustion catching up with him, but when he’s finally about to doze off, the sound of the door startles him awake.

Peter closes the door quietly and starts moving across the room without a noise, trying not to wake Juno up. It would be easy to feign sleep- if Peter doesn’t wanna talk, he doesn’t wanna talk. And maybe once upon a time, Juno would have done it.

“Nureyev?” he whispers, now.

Peter stops moving.

“I’m sorry, darling, did I wake you?” his voice is relaxed, but Juno has known him long enough to hear the slight hint of tension. He sits up and turns the light on. 

“You okay?” 

Peter looks startled for the briefest of seconds before smiling.

“Quite alright, love. Barely a scratch.” 

Juno presses his lips together.

“Stop being purposefully dense, you know what I mean.” 

Peter’s face doesn’t betray any emotions and Juno knows he’s being shut out. 

“Well, today was a bit stressful, I’ll admit, but it turned out pretty well in the end, didn’t it? Close calls are part of the trade, I’m afraid.” 

Juno rubs his uninjured hand over his face. 

“Look, Nureyev, I don’t wanna tell you what to…” he sighs, “I get it. And I’m not gonna make you talk about your feelings or whatever, if you don’t want to. But, for god’s sake, don’t feel like you need to do-” he gestures vaguely at Peter’s face, “whatever that is.” 

“I’m very sorry if my face offends you, Juno.” 

Juno can feel a headache forming behind his temples. This isn’t going anywhere. 

“Okay, you know what- let’s just go to sleep, we’re both fucking tired, we can talk in the morning. Just come here.” 

To his endless surprise, some part of what he just said seems to get through to Peter. His ramrod straight posture crumples, he sits down at the edge of the bed and buries his face in his hands.

“I’m sorry. That wasn’t fair,” he murmurs. 

“Yeah, no shit, whatever, it’s fine. Just come to bed, Peter.” 

“I’m-” Peter starts and cuts himself off, and Juno sees with dawning horror that his hands are shaking. His voice is trembling. God, this is a nightmare. Juno is terrible at comforting people. 

“Hey, hey, hey, it’s alright, you’re fine, we’re fine,” he says with some desperation and hesitantly puts his hands on Peter’s shoulders, moving to kneel before the bed. 

Peter’s breath is growing faster and his eyes have gone unfocused and Juno would very much like to panic right along with him, but he firmly tells himself that only one of them can be having a breakdown at a time. 

“Okay, breathe with me,” he says with more confidence than he feels, “that’s right. Focus on my voice, okay?” 

They get there, eventually. 

“I’m sorry,” Peter whispers after he manages to come back to himself. 

“I’m gonna get you a glass of water, okay? Get comfortable.” 

Peter silently complies. It’s an alien sight and not one Juno cares for very much. 

“Better now?” Juno asks softly when they’re lying next to each other, Juno’s chest pressed against Peter’s back and his arm slung loosely over his waist. 

“I think so,” Peter replies, voice still worn out, “I’m not sure why I reacted that strongly. I think it’s fine now. We don’t have to talk about it.” 

Juno would very much like to argue with that- and look at him now, the advocate for communication in a relationship, oh how the tables turn- but not tonight. So he resorts to linking their hands and waiting for sleep so they can finally put an end to this horrible fucking day. He waits until Peter’s breath has evened out before he allows himself to drift into a dreamless sleep.

He wakes up because of the faint awareness that something is missing. He wishes he could say he is surprised when he reaches across the bed and finds it cold. For a moment, Juno just lies there, arguing with himself. Peter doesn’t want to talk. That’s fine. But Juno is unpleasantly reminded of all the times he decided to bottle up everything he was feeling and push people away. Fuck, it’s not like he doesn’t still do it sometimes, but he’s working on it. It’s an uphill battle, but it’s one he’s learned to believe he can win.

Hell, they don’t even have to talk, Juno can just be there. 

He pushes himself up from the bed, puts on a robe and his boots and goes looking for Peter.

He finds him shortly before getting frustrated with scouring half the ship, sitting at the bottom of a flight of stairs, staring into space.

“Peter?” he whispers. He usually doesn’t call Peter by his name unless they’re in a closed room together but he’s just walked through every hallway in the vicinity, he knows they’re alone. Peter blinks up at him and he looks so, so tired. Juno lowers himself down next to him and for a while, they do nothing but silently exist in the same space together.

Juno doesn’t really expect Peter to start talking, but he’s surprised. 

“I thought you were dead,” Peter says, voice scratchy and exhausted and Juno flinches.

“And I know you’re alright but every time I so much as blink I’m back in the quarter of an hour where I knew you weren’t.” 

“I’m sorry.”

Peter huffs a joyless laugh. 

“It’s hardly your fault. Risk of the trade, as I said.”

He’s silent for a minute.

“You know, it’s not like I’ve never thought you were dead before. But after the whole debacle with Miasma I sort of wrote that one off as… simply a result of you being self-sacrificial.” 

“God, Nureyev, I’m-”

“And since you’ve gotten a lot more responsible in that area, I’d… started to neglect considering your death a very possible outcome of the things we do in our day to day life. Quite foolish of me. Childish, really.”

“I did the same thing,” Juno says, without really planning to.

“Vespa thought Buddy had been caught in that explosion but I just- I kind of refused to consider that meant you might be dead. And Rita was so quick to reassure us that you weren’t…” he gives a shaky exhale.

“And I don’t really know what to say to you, except that we’re both alive right now and we’re going to live another day to figure out how to approach the awareness of each other’s mortality. Fuck, that doesn’t sound encouraging.” 

This time, Peter’s weak attempt at a laugh sounds more sincere. Juno takes his hand and tangles their fingers together.

“Juno, even if we both manage to survive somehow, are we going to end up like Buddy and Vespa, one day? Constantly terrified that we’re one second away from losing each other for good?” 

“Fucking hell, Nureyev, you sound like me, don’t make me be the optimist in this relationship. No. We’re going to be fine. And Buddy and Vespa are doing pretty well, minor setbacks aside.”

Peter’s lips twitch up. 

“Just tonight, love. You can go back to being perfectly pessimistic tomorrow.”

They’re silent for another moment. Juno’s thumb is drawing patterns on the back of Peter’s hand and he can feel him gradually relaxing. 

“I know you’d end up in permanent danger with or without me,” Peter says eventually, “But that doesn’t make me any less scared.” 

It might be the first time Juno’s ever heard Peter admit out loud to being scared. It’s not a pretty milestone, but it’s still… a new degree of honesty, at least.

“Me too. I’m scared every damn day. Peter, you have to promise me, that if something ever happens to me, you won’t blame yourself. As long as you don’t pull the trigger yourself, it’s not your fucking fault and you’re not gonna tell yourself that it is, you hear me? I don’t care if it was because you did something wrong, it would never be your fault.” 

Peter is crying. It’s silent, but it’s in his voice when he says, “I can’t do that.” 

“Make you a deal. I won’t blame myself if something happens to you and you won’t blame yourself if something happens to me. We both know what we signed up for.” 

Peter tries to rub the tears out of his eyes, but it isn't of much use. 

“Okay,” he whispers, “Okay. I promise.” 

Juno lets go of his hand in favor of wrapping his arm around his shoulders and Peter buries his face in his neck. 

“For the record though, we’re gonna be fine,” Juno repeats for good measure, after pressing a kiss to Peter’s forehead. He only half believes it himself on a lot of days but he’s found that insisting on it with all the stubbornness given to him helps. 

He has no idea how long they sit like that, but eventually, they manage to pull themselves up before sneaking back to their room on slightly unsteady legs.

Juno gets them both glasses of water and tells Peter he loves him. He gets a kiss on the nose and the first tentatively hopeful smile of the night in reply.

Peter is fast asleep the second his head hits the pillow. Juno sits on the side of the bed, eyes lingering. He gently pushes a stray curl out of Peter’s face, making some attempt to process the emotional mess he’s just been through, but in the end, he’s too tired. He switches off the light and wraps himself around Peter. He can contemplate their mortality tomorrow. For now, he sleeps.


End file.
